


Moon Touched

by Melusine11



Series: Reylo Monster Week 2018 [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Lovin, Hux is also a werewolf, Oral Sex, Werewolf Rey, followed by some not so gentle lovin, witch ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: Get in, grab what he needed, then get out. It should have been simple. It would have been simple if he ever paid attention to the cycles of the moon. Any other witch worth their salt did, but not Ben, oh no, not him. He hardly ever practiced magic that relied on the moon, more content to pursue the more solidly based aspects of the craft now. Healing balms and tinctures, minor spells revolving around protection things like that, and of course for the right price all manner of poisons. His little cottage was filled to the brim with all kinds of herbs and flowers, except for the one he needed at the moment. An oversight on his part, having cleared its space in his garden for more rosemary after two seasons passed of not needing it.Now he has a satchel full of moonflowers (useless) and nowhere to run from the werewolf in front of him.“Nice...doggy?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There Werewolf AU that turned out softer than I thought it would. There's another chapter to come (that I wrote first), but for now - enjoy! Also, apologies in advance for any kind of errors did the good ole self-edit - and also just finished this ~10 minutes before posting.

Get in, grab what he needed, then get out. It should have been simple. It would have been simple if he ever paid attention to the cycles of the moon. Any other witch worth their salt did, but not Ben, oh no, not him. He hardly ever practiced magic that relied on the moon, more content to pursue the more solidly based aspects of the craft now. Healing balms and tinctures, minor spells revolving around protection things like that, and of course for the right price all manner of poisons. His little cottage was filled to the brim with all kinds of herbs and flowers, except for the one he needed at the moment. An oversight on his part, having cleared its space in his garden for more rosemary after two seasons passed of not needing it.

Now he has a satchel full of moonflowers (useless) and nowhere to run from the werewolf in front of him.

“Nice...doggy?” Winces even as he says it, pulling his satchel closer to his chest as the large tawny beast snarls, lip curling over its fangs and Ben watches a large glob of drool roll down one, suspended for a moment at the point before it drops to the grass near its paws. He takes a step back as the Were takes one forward, its ears going flat against its head as its hackles rose.

He doesn’t even know if they can understand him while in that form, but he isn’t above trying to beg for his life. He isn’t going to scream, he absolutely isn’t going to. The wolf continues stalking towards him, he yelps when he trips over an exposed root to fall onto the forest floor, satchel flying from his grip and herbs scattering.

The large body towers over him, and he turns his head as another drop of drool falls from its mouth. It lands on his cheek with a wet plop and he groans in disgust. The hot huffs of breath hit his face, bringing with it the stench of death. He does scream when a heavy object plows into the wolf, sending it flying into a tree nearly twelve feet away. The heavy object turns out to be another wolf. Not nearly as large, and its coat is somewhere between grey and beige. Ben attempts to move, not wanting to be anywhere near the impending fight when the new wolf turns and snarls at him, freezing him in place.

The first wolf staggers to its feet, shaking its head before lunging. The fight is vicious and Ben notes the smaller wolf is careful to keep its body between him and the tawny wolf. Almost as if it is protecting him. There’s a lot of blood, but finally, the tawny wolf limps away, whimpering and tail between its legs. His savior wolf growls, ears flat against its head until the other is long out of sight.

“Oh!” he exclaims, when it turns to face him, ears perking back up and tongue lolling from a bloodsoaked muzzle. “Uh, thank you,” he manages to squeak out, hands searching blindly for his satchel, breathing a sigh of relief when he finds it. The wolf sits down, and yips at him. “You don’t need to stay for my sake,” he rambles, scooping up the flowers that fell. “I don’t live far and can find my way back just fine.” He swears it rolls its eyes at him, and it’s plausible since it’s a Were, but he just really doesn’t know. He hates how many questions he has. This is the first time he’s ever come across one, at least to his knowledge, none transformed at least. If they’re this close to his home, more than a few villagers must be Weres. 

Brushing himself off he finally stands and smiles at the wolf. “Thank you, again. I uh, I’ll just be going now.” He gives a little wave and turns to leave, it stands to follow. “No, no, you can, stay? I’ll be fine, I’m just over the hill, and I’m talking to a werewolf, great.” he devolves into a quiet mutter and the wolf huffs, stretching, digging its front claws into the dirt, back lifting in the air and then it yawns before it straightens, shaking its head and bounding over to him.

“Fine.” he grunts, looking up at it with a frown, “but you’re going to let me take care of your injuries, and we’re definitely washing your face off before you try to make yourself at home.” He relents and it chuffs out another amused breath that ruffles his hair. 

It’s maybe a mile back to his home, not too far, but far enough when you have a werewolf trotting beside you. One who keeps turning to check back over their shoulder as they walk. He speeds up minutely every time it happens.

“Here we are,” he sighs, swinging open the rickety gate, holding it until they lumber past and then he’s darting around the large wolf to open his door. “I think I already have something put together, but first,” he mutters to himself, dropping his satchel onto the kitchen table and shrugging out of his jacket before he opens the cabinet under the sink, coming back up with a towel. He runs it under hot water while grabbing a bowl and filling that up too. Turning he finds the beast sprawled out across his floor, face resting on its paws as it watched him.

His hand is steady, and he’s thorough with his cleaning of the wounds, talking in a low voice the entire time. Telling it superficial things about what he had growing in his gardens, and his favorite things to make, his favorite stalls to visit when he makes the trip into town. He carefully treats the gashes with a salve he had made not two days prior and then sits back to frown at them.

“That will do for now,” he muses, hesitating for a moment before reaching out. He smiles when the head moves to butt up against his palm. He runs a hand through the soft fur there with a smile. “Thank you,” he sighs, then stands up. “I’m going to shower,” he says decisively, with a quick nod. “Make yourself at home, I guess? Or I can let you back out?” The creature is on its feet in a flash and Ben falls back onto his sofa. “Okay, you can stay,” he relents when it’s large head settles in his lap. It lets out a quiet bark of delight before removing itself from him. 

“I’ll be back,” he tells it, then promptly holes himself up in his bathroom. It is the longest shower he could ever remember taking. Washing off the forest and the fear and just trying to delay spending time holed up in his one-room home with a werewolf who had no desire to hurt him, which was all the more concerning.

Water long since turned cold he quickly shuts it off and steps out, giving himself a quick pat down, then wrapping the towel around his waist he walks out into his living space. He blinks, and then rubs his eyes because he has to be imaging it, but no. His bed had been overrun.

“Hey,” he grunts, swatting at its tail and he wonders what his life has become that he would teasingly hit a werewolf. “Who said you could have the bed?” he asks, pulling a pair of briefs from his dresser, and sliding them awkwardly on under the towel. He hates this, wishes he knew more about it’s kind. The eyes are too keen though, so he suffers through the awkward maneuver then shuffles to the side of his bed. The wolf rolls, then lands on the floor with a thud before propping it’s chin onto his mattress, starring as he crawls beneath the covers. He shuts off the lights with a snap of his fingers, but he can still make out the eyes of the creature, bright in the light of the moon, a beautiful hazel shade. He’s still staring as he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

“Hey,” the voice is quiet as it pierces his dreams, accompanied by a gentle shoulder shake. “Hey,” it speaks again and he cracks on eye open. There’s a beautiful naked woman sitting in his bed and he smiles sleepily, it’s a good dream. “Wait, no, don’t go back to sleep,” she pleads, shaking him again and both his eyes fly open.

“Holy shit!” he breathes, reaching out and touching her arm. “You’re real.”

“Of course I’m real!” she snarls, clearly offended. “Why wouldn’t I be real?”

“No, I thought you were a dream.” This seems to please her and she smiles. “How did you get in here?”

“You let me in, last night after I saved your life from that asshole, Hux. Idiot, always trying to mess with the humans,” she grumbles, fussing with his spare pillow.

“I let you in? Oh! I let you in!”

“Knew you had a brain!” she teases, and he stares at her in shock when she reaches out and boops the tip of his nose.

“I’m Ben,” he finally manages to say.

“Rey, but I know who you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes straying down to her pert breasts, dusky nipples peaked in the chill of his cottage. She shifts and he looks back at her face. Truly, it’s a miracle he’s made it this long without taking a better look. He’s only human after all.

“I have,” she answers with a knowing grin. “You’re who they told me to see.”

“Look, Rey, I don’t know who you might have spoken to, but they might have given you the wrong idea about me.”

“They told me you’re powerful. Thay you would be able to help me with my problem.”

“I can’t stop your turning,” he frowns and watches her sink down on the bed so she can lay next to him. He tries not to look at her chest, but he fails. “Sorry,” he mutters, dragging his eyes away from them once more.

“Don’t be, I like the way I look, I like the way you look too. Just a room full of impressive tits.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, too shocked to say much else, which makes her laugh and then wrestle with the blankets until she’s under them.

“Less distracting?” she asks with a smirk and he nods, “good. So, I don’t care about the turning. I don’t mind it. It’s been part of my life for so long now, it’s just part of who I am. I actually wanted to see if you could help with this?” she pushes her hair from her shoulder now, and gestures at a gruesome scar there. “My makers parting gift.”

“Can I touch it?” he asks gently. And when she nods, he reaches over and lets his fingers trace the jagged edges. It’s hot and her nose wrinkles at his touch. “I have a few ideas,” he declares, springing from the bed with a purpose, striding over to rifle through his bookshelves.

“Do you have any food?” Rey asks from the bed, “Maybe also a shirt I could borrow?”

“Yes to both,” he answers without looking, “shirts are in the second dresser drawer, and you can help yourself to whatever’s in the icebox.”

“Can I make tea?” he glances up in time to watch her emerge from beneath the sheets and then rummage through his shirts.

He clears his throat and flips open the first book he pulls from the shelf, “of course, I have a collection of loose-leaf varieties right over there,” he tells her, pointing blindly at the open shelf above the stove.

“So fancy, Ben,” she quips as she passes behind him.

“It’s not that fancy, it’s just how tea deserves to be brewed,” he huffs, eyes rapidly scanning the page before tossing it to the coffee table, looking for the next one. He reads until a chipped teacup is thrust in front of his face.

“Take a break,” Rey says, hazel eyes bright in the morning sun dancing through his cottage. “The scar will keep a little longer.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it gently from her hands. “I can make us breakfast,” he offers, taking a tentative sip.

“Okay, I got out the bacon,” she tells him, settling into a chair in his kitchen. “It smells interesting in here,” she tells him as he picks up his cast iron skillet.

“What do you mean?” he asks, placing it on the stove and picking up the butcher paper wrapped package.

“Just that there’s a lot of smells going on in here. You have to smell them, you literally have herbs hanging from your ceiling, but beyond that, there’s the smell of magic. Faint, but there.”

“I don’t practice a lot of true magic anymore, plus convincing the locals that they need love potions is far more lucrative.” she snorts a laugh behind him and he turns to lean against the counter while the bacon sizzles. “Will you turn again tonight?”

She frowns, “for an all-powerful witch, you sure don’t know a lot about my kind.”

“I’ve never had much need to, you’re the first one I’ve met, not counting the one that tried to kill me.” He takes a drink of his tea and observes her careful smile. “Why did you do it?”

“Attack him?”

“Save me.”

“Oh. That.” She looks anywhere but at him and drains her cup before reaching towards the pot for more.

“Rey,” he speaks gently, knowing panic when he sees it. She stills, hand poised in the air. “You’re safe here.”

“I know I am,” she growls at him, and then sniffs, “sorry, I’m more easily riled up at the full moon. I’ve been looking for you for a while, people in town talk about you a lot, but no one knows where you live. I’ve tried tracking your scent, but it just disappears.”

“I have wards up. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“It’s not your fault, not like you knew.” He watches her pour more water into her cup, then messes with the spare infuser he has before dropping it in. “I’ve been looking for you,” she begins slowly, falling silent and biting at her lower lip, next to him the bacon pops in the pan. “I’ve been looking for you because while, yes I would like your help to try and fix this,” she waves an angry hand at her neck, “I also wanted to find you because you smell like home.” her hands play with the teacup, spinning it, stirring the infuser around and then finally she looks up at him. 

“What does that mean?” he asks into the quiet.

“I don’t know. I just thought I should try to meet you.”

“Fair enough,” he replies, setting down his teacup to turn the bacon. “Will you turn again tonight?”

“So many questions, when does a girl get a turn around here?” she laughs now and Ben furrows his brow, trying to figure out her game. “Yes, I will, four nights every month I transition.”

“Do you have friends?”

“Like a pack? Not really. Once I did, but that was forever ago. So why don’t you really practice true magic anymore?” she asks, and he grunts.

The bacon is nearly done though, so he uses that as an excuse to not answer right away. Once it’s plated and on the table, there’s no avoiding it.

“There was an accident,” he begins, picking up a piece of bacon and breaking it apart, “the details aren’t important, or they are, but I can’t. I hurt people I love. I wounded them deeply, and it’s not something that can be easily fixed.”

“So you moved to the middle of nowhere?” she asks, humming in acknowledgement when he nods, “I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to be, it was a long time ago now.” She smiles at him in understanding and then quickly takes what is easily half of the plate of bacon. “I can make more,” he teases.

“Maybe later?” She comprises, licking bacon grease from her fingers, “so why were you out last night? Seems pretty stupid to be wandering around at the full moon.”

“I, ah, needed a specific flower that I no longer grow.” He watches her take in the absurd amount of drying flowers suspended above them with amusement. “Do a lot of werewolves live in this forest?” 

“Nah, don’t think so. Just a really small pack. Nasty though. Lack of morals. They like killing.”

“Not you?”

“No, it happened once, and it was an accident. Mostly. It was my first transition, and my maker was a real sick fuck, sent three of his packmates into my room as soon as night fell. Obviously, there was a fight. I don’t remember much, but I’ll never forget the way his neck felt when I snapped it between my jaws. Did you know, if you die in your wolf form, you stay in it?”

“I did not know that, no.” 

He watches her shove three pieces of bacon into her mouth and then continues talking like it was no big deal. “So I don’t kill, but a lot of them out there do, but as I said, you smell like home.”

“Ah.” He stands, taking his cup with him back to the bookshelves, unable to watch her eat longer. The worst part is, he finds it slightly endearing, so fleeing is the most logical answer. “So I did find one spell that we could try, but it’s for unusual markings.”

Behind him, she snorts, “are scars like mine not unusual?” 

“Don’t know. We’ll have to see. I’ll keep looking though.”

“Fair enough.”

* * *

She slips out the front door at dusk, shedding his shirt and draping it over the back of the couch. The spell hadn’t worked, but she didn’t seem too disappointed, somehow, oddly pleased.

_“Can I get back in, at sunrise?” she had asked, hand lingering on the handle._

_“You’re allowed to stay.”_

_The rise and fall of a shoulder as she looked over at him. “I like to run.”_

_He smiled at this, “yes, you can get back in, passing through with me last night was enough for the wards to recognize you.”_

_“Sleep well, Ben,” she had said, before stepping out into the rapidly darkening night._

He doesn’t sleep. He pours over more texts trying to find something, anything that might help. A life debt is a great motivator, and he isn’t going to let her down.

On the second night, she leaves him he nods off at the kitchen table, only to be roused by a howl. The noise jerks him awake and he wipes his sleeve across his mouth as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Another howl sounds, and then another voice joins it, and he finds himself hoping Rey is okay out there. Foolish. He’s only known her a handful of days, but he feels like he’s starting to understand what she means about home.

It’s nearly sunrise when he stumbles upon the book, at some point another book had pushed it to the back of the shelf. One day he would go through it all and organize it, but now he had something tangible he could learn from.

“Honey, I’m home,” Rey yells as she opens the door, and he snaps the book shut, standing up in surprise. “Woah, are you okay?” she asks, quickly shrugging the clean shirt he had left out for her on.

“Yes, fine. Are you?” He frowns at her as she limps around the couch. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing, accelerated healing.”

“I can still help,” he declares, swerving around her and over to his workstation. He gathers up an armful of supplies and practically stomps back over to her.

Rey’s laugh is a musical sound, and he can’t help but smile at it. “Ben, I appreciate the gesture, but this is really-”

“I found a book,” he interrupts, spilling everything onto the coffee table, and urging her to sit. “Here.” He hands her the book, opening it to where he had left off. “Read.”

“Would the teacher prefer I read to myself, or to the class?” she asks as he gently lifts her leg to prop it up on his own to work on it.

“Whatever you want,” he murmurs, beginning to get to work.

Rey takes a deep breath and begins “Werewolves are among-” and then quickly trails off into silence, and Ben feels the tension in his shoulders grow as her leg in his hands begins to tremble.

“Ben,” she breathes, and he hears the book fall to the couch, “how accurate is that book?”

“What?” he asks, turning to finally look at her, she looks as shell-shocked as he feels. He releases her and then lifts himself up so he can sit on the couch beside her. “You’re more than welcome to read the whole thing, you are the expert after all.”

“Are you teasing me?” She turns to face him fully, pulling her leg up. The movement displaces his shirt, falling down over her shoulder, and he smiles before pulling it back up into place.

“No, maybe, it’s the truth though.”

“I’m going to read it.”

“By all means,” he leans over and picks the book back up, handing it to her once more.

“Ben, if this is true,” she begins, turning the book gently in her hands, “then that means, but it can’t be true, you’re not a werewolf.”

“Suppose it is true for a moment.”

“You would be okay with that?”

“Rey, you’ve been living in my home for the last few days, and wearing my clothes, I think I would be more than okay with it.”

“We shouldn’t rush anything,” she insists, shifting onto her knees.

“Whatever you want,” he quickly agrees.

“I want to kiss you,” she blurts, and Ben can’t stop the smile that forms on his lips. “I want more, but let’s start with a kiss.”

It starts with a kiss. It starts with Rey pouncing on him and attacking him with her mouth, excited and eager, and Ben lets her lead. When she’s properly ravished his mouth she pulls away, eyes bright and smiles wide. “Home,” she whispers, gently butting her forehead against his, both of their eyes closing in bliss, “Mate.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating went up. Shorter chapter than the first - but sexier. Also a bit of a time jump. Few years, not super impactful, but the more you know!

“You’ll be safe, _and_ careful tonight, won’t you?” He asks against her hair as they lay together in bed.

Her nails lightly scratch patterns on his naked chest as his fingers draw lines along her spine. “I always am,” she tells him on a yawn before propping herself up on an elbow to smile down at him. “Everything will be fine,” she soothes, pressing back sweat damped hair from his forehead.

He closes his eyes and leans into her touch, “I know, but I’ll still worry.” She presses a kiss against his temple and slips from their bed. Ben opens his eyes to watch her progress as she pads over to the kitchen, filling the kettle before turning on the stove. There’s a sexiness to the simplicity of her actions. So comfortable in both of her skins, but more so in this one around him, since the first night they met.

Dappled sunlight filters in through the tall windows that look out into the wood, and he’s glad there’s no one around, glad there’s no one else to see her golden skin on magnificent display but him. Not that it would do anyone much good anyway, he’s put up so many protection and barrier spells around their little haven that unless you’ve got an escort, there wasn’t a chance you would find it. 

“You’re staring,” she sings, grinning at him from over her shoulder.

“I can’t help it, you’re incredibly sexy,” he tells her, finally standing and pulling on the pair of boxers that had been discarded early in the evening last night. Rey makes a low chuffing noise as she opens the icebox, remaining still as she peeks in, allowing him to come up behind her. “You are,” he insists, hand gliding around her waist to snake up her torso, only coming to a stop when he’s cupping a breast while the other settles low on her hips. His lips come to rest on the junction where neck meets shoulder, covering the jagged scar that lingers there, despite the magicks he’s tried to work on it.

“Toast, bacon, and eggs sound good to you?” she asks, voice tight, and he hums against her skin before dragging his lips away from her mark, up her neck, peppering kisses until his mouth finds his own mark, a small yet beautiful design of his own making, settled just behind her ear. “Ben,” she whines, higher pitched and back further in her throat than it normally is, all thanks to her impending transition tonight.

“That’s fine,” he agrees and loosens his hold on her so she can retrieve the items needed. He’s on her as soon as she’s set everything down, hoisting her up onto the counter while shoving his mortar and pestle back and out of the way while she moves his underwear down just far enough. 

“The kettle,” she gasps as he enters her, lithe legs coming up to trap him close, ankles crossing together over his ass. His thumb traces the faint silver of a scar running over her ribcage as he snaps his fingers on his other hand, dousing the fire with minimal effort. He takes her on the counter, as the sun continues to rise, filling the space where they eat, sleep, live and love with its warm morning light. Winter will be upon them soon, he muses as Rey’s head tips forward to land on his shoulder, revealing the window behind her and the small licks of frost that linger at the edges of the pane. 

He drops his own head, to press against hers at the temple, breath huffing gently at her scar. “I love you,” he gasps when he feels her legs begin to tremble, “so much, baby,” he affirms, before sinking lower to press another kiss against her scar. She howls when she comes undone around him, nails piercing where she’s gripping him, but he doesn’t care, he never cares. 

“I love you too,” she breathes into his skin once their breathing has begun to settle. “Sorry about the -” she grunts and carefully drums her fingers on the set of crimson crescent marks she’s left behind.

“It’s fine,” he assures her as he pulls away, rubbing his palms over her thighs and smiling down at her, “you know they’re a quick fix.”

“I know, but it’s an accident every time. She gets so hard to control right before the full moon.” He smiles easily at her, this is a conversation they have every month, and a part of him hurts that she feels she always needs to apologize for who she is, for what she is. Most day’s she’s happy to own that part of herself, it’s only ever if she’s caused him harm that she frets. He helps her from the counter and she leans into him. “We need to make breakfast there,” she snickers.

He cleans up and starts breakfast while she scurries off to the bathroom to shower. 

“We should head to the market today,” she says as she opens the door, letting a cloud of steam billow out around her as she steps to the dresser to withdraw her clothes for the day.

“It’s a good day for it,” he agrees, “and we’re almost out of that tea you like.”

She pulls a well-loved shirt over her head and then reaches for her underwear and leggings, “well we’re definitely out of bacon after today.”

“Hmm, yes, and I wouldn’t want my feral girl coming home ravenous tomorrow with nothing in the home to eat.” He hears her low rumble of a growl from across the room and laughs.

More at ease now, with his powers than he has been in years, Ben teleports them both to the outskirts of town, on the winding three-mile path that leads to their home. They spend the day wandering the town, picking up things they need, including enough bacon that the butcher gives them a look. Rey says something witty, that Ben doesn’t catch, because he’s too busy watching the sunlight play in her hair.

“Ben?” she asks, parcel of bacon in her arms, “you ready?”

“Yes, sorry, I was entranced by your beauty.”

Rey laughs, then lifts just enough to press a kiss to his cheek, “let’s go, we still have to stop at the tea shop.”

They return home at dusk with obscene amounts of bacon and tea, plus two chickens, plucked and trussed. Rey pounces on him as soon as everything is away, dragging him over to the couch and pushing him down before quickly discarding her leggings and underwear.

“I need you,” she whispers, climbing onto his lap and claiming his lips with a kiss while her hands work at freeing him from his pants.

“Rey,” he groans when her fingers wrap around the length of him, “sweetheart.”

“You’re right, we don’t have time.” She sinks onto the floor, and Ben fists his hands at the knees of his pants when she runs her tongue up the length of him before she swirls it around the tip. He swears when she takes him into her mouth and she hums around his cock before she starts to bob. It’s sloppy, her fist working over the part of him that isn’t in her mouth while her tongue continues to work him over, wet noises growing. Pulling away with a quiet slurp, she smiles in satisfaction, wiping the excess spit away with the back of her hand as she climbs back onto him.

“This is better,” she moans as she sinks down onto him and Ben grunts in response. “Speechless again, mate?” she teases, hands settling on his shoulders as she begins to ride him.

Ben grins, hand reaching up to tweak a nipple over her shirt. “Only a little bit,” he acquiesces, other hand tangling in her falling tresses to pull her in for a hungry kiss. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he tells her, lips still against her own.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she agrees after another kiss, and then she pulls her shirt up over her head. “Touch me,” she encourages, “kiss me.”

Ben, hand still tangled in her hair, pulls, bowing her back, then places a kiss on top of her chest, traveling lower until he can suck a nipple into his mouth. Rey’s nails sink into his shoulders and he bites down in retaliation, which only makes her moan louder and fuck him harder.

“Yes,” she hisses when he switches to the other, not wanting it to feel neglected. She whimpers as he sucks and bites at her breasts, whispering his name and praises to the sky. “Ben, Ben,” she sobs, “please, I’m so close.” 

He groans around her breast and then pushes his hand between them to work at her clit. Her nails dig in deeper as she shatters around him, and his hand shifts, gripping her waist, holding her steady to easily fuck up into her until he follows. He pulls her against him and kisses her, a languid satisfying thing that has her making a noise of delight low in her throat. His thumb presses up behind her ear, rubbing his mark and she pulls away from him with a hum.

Her words are a whisper, eyes closed in bliss, “I need to leave, Ben.”

“I know,” he answers just as quietly, still rubbing gently.

Reluctantly she leaves his lap, kissing the tip of his nose. Ben’s gaze tracks her as she walks into the kitchen, taking long gulps of water straight from the sink, and when she straightens, her fingers are lightly scratching at the edges of her scar.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she sighs, ruffling his hair as she passes behind him, he catches her wrist before she’s too far gone.

“Be safe,” he repeats his plea from this morning.

“I always am,” she returns once more as he presses a lingering kiss to the heel of her hand as he stands. “Love you.” Another kiss, as he opens the door, and then she’s gone, bursting into a run, and then several steps later, the transformations takes her. She lets out a bark of delight as she vaults over the fence, and Ben waves a hand in farewell before shutting the door.

He occupies his night with a long shower, and then catching up on reading, at some point, he must fall asleep. The quiet _snick_ of the door being gently closed doesn’t wake him, nor does the quiet _click_ of the bolt being slid into place, but the sudden weight of a body certainly does.

“You’re cold,” he grunts, bringing his arms around her. 

She laughs and nuzzles into his neck, “you tried staying up again, didn’t you?”

“I always do, plus, it’s hard to sleep when you’re not in the bed.”

“And to think you kicked me out of it when we first met,” she teases, drawing a sleepy laugh from the man below her. “Ben,” she whispers, cold fingers tickling his sides. “It’s time to get up. I’m starving.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Reylo Monster Week!
> 
> I think on of my favorite lines I've ever written is in this, but I won't tell you what it is...Leave a comment, and let me know what you thought - or you guess!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://hellomelusine.tumblr.com) if you want.
> 
> The second half will be up either tomorrow or Sunday - depends on what nonsense RL decides to throw at me.


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